


Bountiful Evening

by nelfes



Category: Rune Factory 4
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28368294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nelfes/pseuds/nelfes
Summary: Lest starts out on a meandering quest to find out more about a certain Selphian winter tradition and ends up learning more about his friends and himself in the process.
Relationships: Amber & Illuminata (Rune Factory), Dolce & Pico (Rune Factory), Doug and Blossom, Doug and Dylas, Forte & Kiel (Rune Factory), Lest and Ventuswill
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	Bountiful Evening

Lest wiped his brow as he placed the last of the pumpkins in the shipping box. Despite it being Winter, the afternoon of the twenty-second in fact, his perennial crops had been lucrative this season and it was only here at the end of the year he felt the field needed a time to rest. Lest had been hard at work since morning taking a scythe to the parts of the field that needed it and covering the other plots up until Spring.

Last Winter in Selphia had been a hectic affair as he had still been looking for the rune spheres. He hadn’t had any time to take care of the fields, then, so this was a nice change of pace. He finally had time to prepare for the Winter Harvest Festival too, which was his reason now for bringing in the remaining vegetables he had not shipped.

“Hey, Venti,” Lest said out of habit as he entered the Dragon Chamber. He hadn’t stopped with the greeting even though it had already been a full year since she had come to save him from Ethelbard, and he might never. That didn’t bother him as much as it once had, he found, and it was something of a relief to walk past her dais with a lighter heart than usual.

He stopped short upon seeing Clorica and Vishnal placing a table at the entrance to the chamber. His sudden stop nearly caused his wooly to bump into him with the remaining vegetables it was carrying but Lest knelt down in time to intercept.

“Oh, hello, Lest,” Clorica said, opening both of her eyes just then to give him a greeting. (Had she carried her weight of the table the entire way with her eyes closed, he wondered despite himself). “Are you here to place your vegetables on the table for the harvest festival?”

Visnal moved out of his way, as if assuming that was exactly what Lest was going to do. Lest, confused, did put one of his prized pumpkins down and as he did so Volkanon bustled into the chamber carrying on a tray an elaborate, green candle with wing decals on either side. He placed the candle, tray and all, directly in the middle of the table and turned to Lest, wiping away a tear as he did so.

“Is this,” Lest started, “um, the harvest festival isn’t until the twenty-eighth right? I, er, don’t remember this from last year.”

“Correct,” Volkanon boomed, “due to Lady Ventuswill’s condition last year we did not have our usual table of offerings placed before her. I thought it only correct we rectify that this year though it seems once again I will be presiding over the judging at the festival.”

Lest offered Volkanon one of the handkerchiefs he kept on his person at all times just for such an event as this. He deposited the rest of his produce on the table and tried to remember what Venti had told him about offerings. Oh, that was right.

“I remember she once told me each season’s harvest festival started out as a way to thank Selphia’s guardian deity. Is that why you have the candle here representing her?”

The candle itself seemed old, however, and he could tell by its shine that Volkanon had polished it himself. Volkanon held up a finger, blowing his nose, and Vicinal quickly flipped through his butler’s handbook in the interim.

“The candle is a unique part of the Winter Harvest Festival and has been for centuries,” he read, and Volkanon nodded, dabbing at his nose.

“That is correct,” Volkanon confirmed. “I can only hope Lady Ventuswill approves of us finally bringing it out again.”

Volkanon seemed to take his lapse in duty as a serious problem but considering any time Volkanon had been absent as a butler he had been fighting Sechs soldiers Lest felt he really needn’t take it so harshly. Still, something about that candle seemed odd. It was a little too ostentatious even for wind god’s outer persona.

If the tradition had only been around for “centuries” though Lest had a good feeling about who he could ask to learn more.

-

“The candle,” Dylas repeated, “sorry but I don’t know.”

Lest had made his way to Porcoline’s first as he had hoped he might make it before the after dinner rush. As it turned out most of Selphia’s residents had already cleared out (he had passed Jones and Nancy hand in hand out on the street) but there were a few tourists still eating. Dylas had been wiping down the floor and talking to Doug when Lest had come in. He would have felt guiltier if it wasn’t so obvious Doug was there less for the food and more to bother Dylas.

Still, Lest was glad to see them both and he had figured his questions should start with the four guardians.

“I mean I remember it,” he said, leaning against the mop. “Whenever I went to see Venti during the winter after a good catch she’d have the table out with it and everything. I just put the fish there.”

Lest nodded at that. That was at least something to go on for the tradition being long lasting. Dylas was the second oldest guardian according to Leon so from here maybe Lest could work forward before asking the first guardian himself.

Lest and Dylas both looked up hearing Doug’s laugh from his table near the entrance. He wasn’t even pretending to eat anymore and smirked up at Dylas with an elbow on the tablecloth. “Should have expected that, Lest,” he said, eyes flickering to the shorter man’s face, “this guy can’t remember anything if it doesn’t involve fish.”

“Shut up!” Dylas ground out, rising to the bait. Lest held a finger to his lips and Dylas, realizing there were still a few tourists finishing their dinner, bowed apologetically. Lest looked over at Doug with a raised eyebrow and the dwarf had the decency to also seem abash.

“It was a long time ago, anyway,” Dylas sighed, “there’s a lot I don’t remember from back then and besides if I had asked Venti she might not have even answered seriously.”

Lest grinned at that. “She did love teasing people in private!”

He was relieved to see Dylas give one of his half smiles at that. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Doug had been strangely quiet in the time he and Dylas were speaking and he was surprised to find the dwarf looking back at him when Lest glanced over. He did not look away and instead sat back in his chair looking thoughtful.

“You both… well, especially, you Lest, don’t have any other winter traditions right?”

“Well, no,” Lest admitted as Dylas gave a quick shake of his head. He wondered why Doug was asking? It was not as if Lest’s amnesia was any secret in town.

“Well, uh,” Doug began, “I don’t know how much help this is since it can’t be related but my tribe had this tradition after every winter solstice when we would take cakes and other sweets to the elders. We would always put candles on the trays or in the cakes and the kids would, like, I don’t know walk in a parade before giving them all out. Stuff like that.”

Lest’s face lit up at this new information as he sat down beside Doug. “Wow! Candles in cakes? Like what Selphia does for birthdays?”

Doug seemed taken aback at Lest’s overly optimistic questioning had but he only leaned away a small amount once he saw Dylas’s face. “I guess?”

Doug cleared his throat and tried again, lips turning down in thought. 

“Some of them were in the cakes and some of them were just on the trays next to them. I mostly stayed out of the kitchens when other folks’ did the baking cause you know I can’t stand sweets,” he said, breaking into a familiar smile. “I helped prepare the trays and I guess each one was kinda unique. It was a way of saying thanks to the older dwarfs in the community and all they had done for us even if a lot of ‘em just sat around after reaching three hundred…”

Lest would have asked more about that last tidbit if Doug’s eyes hadn’t seemed so distant. This was the first time he had heard him talk so much about his tribe and he was sure Doug realized that as well. Lest would have to find a way to thank him for this be it rice products or helping out at the shop. He did make a mental note to ask Arthur about the life spans of the dwarven races, however.

“I think it also represented the lengthening days after the winter solstice? I, uh, didn’t really pay attention to all the symbolic stuff,” Doug admitted with a laugh that trailed off a bit too soon.

Lest put a hand over his friend’s. “That’s alright. Thank you. I learned a lot! I think I know where to go from here now.”

Doug just nodded. “Where to go, huh,” he said, and then louder, “Dylas! You got any of that carrot cake Granny likes so much in the back?”

Lest glanced at Dylas who, while often quiet, seemed particularly thoughtful as he silently looked between him and Doug. Nodding at Doug, he said, “We do. Let me just finish up here.”

It did not take long for him to finish mopping the entrance and as most of the tourists had finished with their meals and were now chatting amongst themselves taking away their dishes was a simple enough task. As the last of the crowd filed out Lest got up to help Dylas take the last of the plates but he just waved him away.

“I got this. Just stay there while I go get that cake. You hear that, Doug! Keep Lest company and make sure he sits back down!”

“I don’t work here,” Doug shouted back immediately but turned to Lest with a twinkle in his eye.  
“And seriously, dude. _You_ work too much. But I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

-

“The solstice, huh,” Kiel said, trailing his fingers along the second bookshelf in his room. Lest was still holding a book they had found in the first titled _Ghosts of Winter_ but was prepared to hide it in his cloak at the first tell Forte was back home. He had originally wanted to talk to Arthur before coming to Kiel because when it came to scholarly opinions Lest felt they balanced each other out; Kiel had a tendency to go on tangents and Arthur was always there with a steady hand to reel him back in. However, as soon as Arthur had come in to his office Dylas had dragged the other man off with the explanation of “needing help with a cake” and “quick, while Meg has Porco occupied”.

Still, Lest was happy enough with what he and Kiel had found. As soon as he knocked on the siblings’ door Kiel had been there with an expectant smile. That smile grew only wider as Lest explained what he was looking for and Kiel swiftly pulled him inside and set him up with a cup of tea as he went to find any books on Selphian traditions he had on the shelves.

Lest recognized most of the information from the older almanacs Kiel brought out. It seemed harvest festivals always coincided with the New Year, although the Christmas celebrations earlier in the week seemed to have been a later addition. Interesting, but the sparse information here didn’t give him many new clues.

Looking up from the stack of books he was going through on Kiel’s bed he asked, “Do you have any memories of winter from your childhood that could help?”

Kiel sat down next to Lest with another few books in his lap and appeared to think deeply at that. “Hmm,” he said aloud, “I’d have to ask sis about what we did when both our parents were alive but I’ve definitely seen that candle in the Dragon Chamber before. We put similar ones in the windows of our house and Bado’s shop.”

“Oh, wow,” Lest said, looking around at the cozy home before him. The siblings’ house had always been surprisingly welcoming to Lest despite its small size and lack of decoration and he only now put together that it was because of the warm lighting. Kiel had several alcoves in his room with lamps to make his reading easier and even Forte’s room, while mostly used for her training, had a chain of flickering firefly-like lights she once mentioned had been special ordered from the capital. “So candles really are a common winter decoration here?”

Kiel shrugged. “I think it was just our family, really. I know Bado kept saying Dad was weird for insisting on putting stuff up in the shop too,” he laughed, “those two were always getting on each other’s nerves. I remember that at least.”

“Who’s nerves are you referring to, Kiel?”

Both Lest and Kiel’s heads shot up as they noticed Forte’s figure in the door frame. Lest gave her a small wave and made sure to move some of the books over in case she wanted to join them. Kiel just responded with a small laugh.

“We were talking about Dad and Bado! How is the old man, by the way.”

Forte sighed and rubbed her head. She entered Kiel’s room and slowly began to undo one vambrace from her arm and then the other while taking a seat at his desk. “He was drinking again. I _told_ him just because he always gets a rush of customers this time of year is no excuse but tonight he was truly immovable.”

Kiel laughed at that but crossed over to the desk to take away the remains of Lest’s tea. “I’m guessing he tried to get you to drink again?”

She sighed. “ _Yes_. Now that I’ve become a full fledged dragon knight he’s been pushing these rites of passages even more.”

Kiel gave her a pat and shuffled out of the room to make a new pot of tea. Forte looked over at Lest as her brother left the room, a light blush dusting her cheeks.

“I apologize for having you hear all that and for interrupting you and Kiel.”

Lest shook his head. They both were silent for a moment as they listened to Kiel hum in the kitchen two rooms over. More of the tension seemed to seep from Forte’s form as she did so and Lest couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Don’t worry about it. We actually were stuck on a problem and were probably going to wait for you to come back, anyway.”

“A problem,” Forte repeated, voice raised. “Is everything alright? Is Kiel –“

“I’m fine,” Kiel drawled as he walked back into the room and handed his sister a cup of tea. “Lest was just asking me about family stuff and I told him honestly you remember more about Mom and Dad than I do.”

Forte let out a breath and nodded, taking the cup and holding it in her lap for warmth. “I see,” she said, quietly, as she brought the cup to her lips and took a long sip. “Why our family in particular?”

“Oh,” Lest said, suddenly worried at how intrusive he was being. “Um, I was actually going around asking people about winter traditions here in Selphia. See, I’m trying to figure out the mystery of this candle in Venti’s room.”

Forte listened carefully to the rest of Lest’s short investigation and what he had found, nodding every once in a while. When he had finished she placed her tea on Kiel’s desk and rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

“That candle,” she said, “I, um, I believe I remember it. But I had never made the connection with the lights we put up throughout the season I must admit.”

Lest leaned forward at that, “So it’s not a dragon knight tradition from the capital then?”

Forte shook her head slowly, brows furrowed. “I do not believe so. Father would have mentioned that surely. Besides, it was Mother who would always decorate with lights in the winter.”

Kiel practically bounced in his spot on the bed next to Lest at this. “Oh! That’s right, I remember now. She always started putting them around the house suuuper early, like as soon as Fall ended, probably because like you she was a real scaredy ca–“

“No!” Forte objected, loudly. “No,” she repeated, blushing again, “that had nothing to do with it. Don’t you remember the story of the winter faerie, Kiel?”

Kiel’s eyes shone with what must have been nostalgia as she said those last few words. “Yeah, I,” he fumbled for one of the piles of books Lest had placed gently on the floor, “I have it here. It was in the storybook she would always read to us.”

Forte nodded at that. Lest waited as Kiel found the right book and noticed how tenderly, almost reverently he held it. He almost felt like he should move away but Kiel, finding the right page, held the book open with one hand and with his other moved closer to Lest so that he could see.

“The faeries of winter,” he read, “are spirits of joy that awaken from slumber during the last few moons of each year to spread brightness and good cheer in those still dark days. They bring blessings and small gifts to farmers and other laborers who haven’t given up hope in the cold weeks that proceed the new year. Offerings of food and milk presented near small sources of light are said to ensure their arrival and a successful end to the winter.”

Lest, watching Kiel’s finger trace each word over his shoulder, was enraptured by the images that filled the page. Somehow the artist who had drawn the faeries had managed to capture movement in those still images so fully that he almost felt he could see the sprites blinking in and out of his view just out of the corner of his eye. The anatomies of the creatures on the page were like that of whimsical, overgrown dragonflies or even –

“Hey,” Lest, grinned, breaking Kiel and Forte out of their reverie, “do you think these faeries could be related to the runeys I sometimes find in the field?”

Forte let out a surprised “oh” at that and straightened her posture (she had been leaning forward in her seat in order to listen to Kiel more fully), giving Lest’s thought her full attention. Kiel gave a laugh of excitement and holding the book closer to his and Lest’s faces said, “Could be! Selphia went for a long time without an Earthmate, after all, and even if the townspeople couldn’t have known everything about Ventuswill and the runes they must have known what a special occurrence it was to have seen something like that.”

Lest nodded. It was odd, he thought, the circumstances of his birth and coming to Selphia had never bothered him much before and even now he was more inclined to find out the history of Selphia’s traditions and beliefs so that he could see eye to eye with his friends and Venti, but learning more about the town almost felt like learning something new about himself.

“Still,” he said, leaning back with a stretch, “I’ve never seen a runey quite like the ones in this book. But maybe the other guardians have? I still have to talk to Leon, Amber, and Dolce.”

Kiel nodded at that and shut the book (though not before marking his place). He offered it to Lest but the other boy just shook his head. “You’ve given me more than enough, Kiel,” he said, “you too Forte! I think I’ll go ask if this story was around earlier in Selphia and see if that connects back to anything else I’ve learned.”

“Alright,” Kiel said, rising as Lest did. “Let me know what you find! This is pretty exciting stuff and knowing you came to me first makes me want to brag to Arthur. Ooh, I should write the little we have down right now.”

Kiel shuffled over to his desk and Forte moved out of his way obligingly, though she did sigh affectionately as she did so. She and Lest exchanged a fond look in the Kiel’s direction before the elder of the siblings led their guest to the door.

“Thanks, again,” Lest told her, eager to be out finding his other friends but equally grateful for the siblings’ time. Forte gave him one of her rare, full smiles and shook her head.

“No,” she said, “thank you. It was… nice to remember those things about our family, especially around this season.”

Lest wondered about that. “Yeah? Well, I’m glad, then. Take care, Forte.”

Maybe, he thought, taking his leave, that the nostalgic feeling he had talking about this topic was something all Selphian residents, memories or no, shared. He liked that idea a lot.

“Hey,” Kiel said a little later, taking Forte’s hand. “I think we still have some of mom’s lights in storage. Think it’s too late to put them up?”

“Not at all. I think that would be lovely.”

-

Perhaps the faeries of winter and their supernatural luck really did exist because as soon as Lest made his way back onto the streets of Selphia he saw Dolce exit the clinic with a shopping basket in hand. He quickly closed the gap between the two of them as there were even fewer tourists out at the moment and in doing so nearly collided with Pico.

 **Hey, hey, hey!** she cried, startling a similar shriek from Lest, **what do you think you’re doing sneaking up on milady like that?**

Dolce for her part said little other than “oh, hello” but she did stop so Lest could catch his breath for which he was thankful. When he started to breathe again with ease they both began walking together though Pico still watched him warily from where she floated over Dolce’s shoulder.

Lest was tempted to continue his staring contest with the ghost but he had important questions to ask and annoying Dolce was no way to go about that. When they came into the palace’s courtyard Lest was able to ask Dolce which of the shops she meant to go to so near to closing time.

“I’m headed to Illuminata’s. We need to freshen up our table display again and I wanted to see if her newest shipment of Moondrops had come in. What about you?”

“I actually wanted to talk to you, Dolce,” Lest began and laughed when he felt the cold chill of Pico’s gaze in his direction, “I need your and Pico’s help with something.”

 **Oh?** Pico said, for the both of them, and relaxed a bit as Lest explained in his roundabout way what it was he was looking for. She spun around Lest’s head happily at the mention of past winter celebrations in Venti’s chamber.

**Yup, yup, that candle’s been there as long as I can remember. And Dolce was asleep for a long, looong time! I remember when the townsfolk piled tons of flan next to it in honor of milday. I told Venti it was only right to stuff herself silly in her honor!**

Dolce had gone still at Pico’s proclamation. She seemed to have been lost in thought ever since Lest had mentioned old, Selphian traditions and private family ones like the kind he had learned about from Kiel and Forte.

“I don’t know if it counts as a tradition,” Dolce murmured, starting to walk again, “but I have been trying to get Nancy and Jones to do more cleaning before the new year comes like we used to do.”

By “we” Lest was sure Dolce meant her old family from before she became a guardian. She had only mentioned them a few times before and only when it was just Lest and Pico who might overhear. Because it was something she spoke of so rarely he did his best to push the topic gently and finally she nodded to the basket in her hand.

“That’s one of the reasons why I wanted to get new flowers for the house. We… it was never proper to leave flowers or other decorations up long after the winter harvest festival.”

“Oh,” Lest said, “why’s that?”

Dolce just shrugged as they turned the corner to the flower shop. “Something about how it would help keep the cold around for too long,” Dolce explained, pausing at the shop’s door, “the earlier we could put up spring decorations the easier it would be to kick the cold winds out and let the warm ones in. Pity that doesn’t work with ghosts, huh?”

Lest wondered about that explanation even as Pico shouted in protest. It sounded familiar.

When he opened the door the first floor of the shop was well lit but empty. There was a sign at the desk stating that those who needed service should wait. It was too late in the evening for Illuminata’s tea time, Lest thought as he inspected it (Dolce for her part had already started putting cut flowers in her basket), wondering where the two flower ship inhabitants could be.

He got his answer a moment later when Amber came sliding down the banister, a garland of juniper flowing out behind her. Lest thought that using her wings to better situate herself and the garland might have been cheating but her landing was quite impressive so he clapped anyway.

“Lest,” she sang happily, “you’re just in time!”

She half jumped, half flew her way into his arms and Lest only managed to get in his question when they stopped spinning: “in time for what?”

“In time to decorate with me and Lumi before the Helper comes tonight!”

“The who?”

Dolce also turned around at this, intrigued. Amber twirled in place before launching herself up to place some holly above the doorway. “The Helper,” she repeated, “is a really old, really nice elf who teleports in and out of houses that have lots of nice plants. If you’ve taken care of all of your plants and been super good during Winter the Helper will help you by hiding presents in the plants!”

That was… a lot. Still, Lest was starting to sense a trend to these stories and couldn’t help but smile at Amber’s enthusiasm. “I’m guessing Illuminata told you this?”

“Yeah, she – Oh, Lumi, there you are!”

Lest turned to see that yes, standing in the doorway, there was indeed an Illuminata shaped figure obscured by the three, large boxes she was holding (and which she nearly dropped). Stepping back in surprise she cried, “Wha – Amber! I thought you were decorating upstairs.”

“I was,” Amber said, peaking around Lest, “but then I heard Dolce and Lest downstairs! And then Lest told me he didn’t know who the Helper was and then… hey, Lumi what are all those boxes?”

Lest could have melted under the intensity of Illuminata’s glare at that moment. He had clearly just stepped all over one of her greatest plan’s and was unsure how to get his feet out without making even more of a mess. Thankfully, Dolce snuck past him and managed to save the day for everyone. Putting a steadying hand on the third box in Illuminata’s stack, she smiled and with only a glance at Amber said, “Oh, these must be the flowers I special ordered for the display I’m making at the clinic. You certainly bought quite a few, Illuminata. Why don’t we leave Lest and Amber to their conversation and you can help me put these in my basket?”

Illuminata’s eyes widened like they always did when had caught on to one of her clues and she nodded rapidly. “Yes, I – yes! Amber, stay here and tend to the shop. We will be just a moment!”

So saying, the two women took the boxes out to the street and the front door closed behind them. Amber looked up at Lest sadly.

“Aww,” she said, “I wanted to see what pretty display Dolce would make.”

Lest let a long breath out and realizing he probably would not be getting a satisfying answer to any of his questions from Amber simply smiled and played along. “Well, you know, you don’t want to ruin the surprise. Dolce is probably decorating for the Helper too. The better the flowers you leave out the better the presents, right?”

Amber’s entire continence brightened up at this and she nodded enthusiastically. “That’s right! I didn’t know Winter could be so fun until hearing about the Helper from Lumi. Come on, Lest, let’s finish upstairs and then I can give you some flowers to take back home!”

What could he say? Despite having even more questions now, ones only Illuminata could answer probably, Lest was helpless in the face of Amber’s joy. She was right, too, it was nice to have something like this to focus on and by the time Illuminata returned home Lest realized that he, like Amber, really was having a lot of fun.

-

It only occurred to Lest as he made his way up Selphia’s high streets and over to the Bell Hotel late in the evening that it had been odd he hadn’t seen Leon in his recent circuit around town. He had even checked at the Dragon Lake before following after Dolce to see if the man was there but there had been no head or tail of him in any of the usual fishing spots. Needless to say he hadn’t seen him at Porcoline’s Kitchen or chatting up tourists in the shopping district either. Lest was almost worried.

He was worried until upon reaching the Bell Hotel’s door he found just the man he was looking for leisurely biding his time on the bench near the viewing platform. He probably would not have seen him if the fox hadn’t called out for him specifically as Lest went to give the door a soft knock.

“Yo-ho,” Leon said, looking at him over his shoulder, “let’s talk over here, Lest. Lin Fa and Xiao Pai have had a long day. It _is_ nearly midnight, you know.”

Lest’s face heated up as he realized his mistake. He had lost track of time decorating with Amber and because it was so dark these days at night and the tourists so eager to clear the streets for a warmer abode he very nearly could have woken the entire hotel up. Chiding himself, he made his way over to sit next to Leon.

“Hey,” Leon laughed, “don’t give me that face. I understand mourning the loss of seeing those lovely ladies but it was me you were looking for, was it not?”

Lest nodded at that, not even bothering to ask how Leon knew. “Yeah, you’re the first and last guardian I wanted to see about this. Although now that I’ve found you I feel like I’ve almost lost track of what to ask.”

Leon lowered his fan from his face, a small smile there, and motioned for Lest to go on.

“Well,” Lest said, feeling it out and realizing how tired he was at this point, “at first I was just trying to understand why Venti would want some big old candle for company during the Winter Harvest Festival. I wanted to understand, especially because she always found it so hard to relate to others but then I learned candles and lights were important throughout Winter here.

Like, important to everyone in different ways, just like all the traditions that have to do with crops and growth and renewal. It’s all very beautiful and all, but none of it really feels _Venti_.”

Leon’s smile grew into a grin at that and Lest, now quite sleepy and tired of talking and sleuthing just crossed his arms. “What?”

“Oh, just. It probably doesn’t feel like her because it’s not. Not in the way you mean, anyway. Ventuswill never liked the long winter nights alone so I would sneak out with a candle or two every night to help her sleep.”

Leon’s voice sounded wistful but he was still grinning and Lest found himself grinning back.

“Looks like even without me around she kept at it. And that I suppose is how one makes a Selphian tradition.”

**Author's Note:**

> Titled from Shchedryk. Also stop making fun of Venti, boys, especially you, Leon, she's got dirt on you >;[ It hurt me to put this before arc three but can you imagine how much wordier it would have been with Venti dialogue? Oh my!
> 
> Most of the traditions here are based on those of the European Christmastide season. Doug's in particular is modeled after Saint Lucy's Day with a Dwarven twist.


End file.
